Three Old Grandmothers Make a New Hobby
by swimmeralltheway
Summary: Annabeth is walking home from her day at Mount Olympus when she runs into a book sale. Once she looks at the books she is in for a big surprise. I would say more, but then it would spoil it. R&R. One-shot.


Three Old Grandmothers Make a New Hobby

By Romeo Montague

Annabeth was walking after her exhausting but satisfying day at working on Mount Olympus. After the second Titan War, the Gods had commissioned her to redesign the throne room and many other features. She had just been working on a statue of Hera (much to her distaste) because the original one had broken and just happen to fall on Thalia. Weird, right? So, in order to not get herself vaporized, Annabeth had been working with great care and time on it, making sure each detail was correct. She was not alone, of course. Annabeth had many people that she could boss around to work on the other things that needed to be done. It was a long, tiring day, and all Annabeth wanted to do was go back to her cabin and read a nice book with some tea. It was a crisp, October evening in New York. Many people must have thought so too, for little action was happening on the streets of this usually busy city. It was nice, just to walk alone and observe the beautiful scenery. As peaceful as it was, Annabeth still kept her hand near the pocket her dagger was kept. A wonderful weapon it was, Celestial bronze made and very reliable in battle. It held many memories, happy and painful. Annabeth quickly allowed the thoughts to leave her mind as quickly had they entered. Stupid ADHD, she thought.

Annabeth was looking around as she walked. The many years she had to fight off monsters had taught her that you could never be too careful. Constance vigilance she said in her head, but a frown etched onto her face as she tried to remember where she had heard that. It mused around her head, taunting her that a daughter of Athena could forget something. Annabeth huffed a piece of loose hair from out of her face and continued walking, hands now shoved into her coat pockets. While continuing looking, her eyes came upon a table with many boxes surrounding it. A sign in bright red read, "Book sale!" Just my luck, she exclaimed, maybe I can get some more stories to enjoy. Walking over, she saw that upon approaching the table, that there were three old ladies sitting in plastic chairs. At the time, nothing seemed unusual about it.

"Good evening." Annabeth said politely. The old ladies did not say anything or even acknowledge her existence, for they seemed too engrossed with the scarf they were knitting. Maybe it was from the work overload today or the denial of having another myth coming into her life to mess it up, Annabeth did not seem anxious from their behavior. She looked around and was surprised to see that none of the books looked new or had titles on the cover. They all had a black cover, worn down, and made of leather. The books were different sizes, as some were small and barely had fifty pages, while others looked as big as cement blocks (and trust her, Annabeth would know) that were ten thousand pages. What really confused Annabeth was that each book started out with that same introduction: the birth of the person, their first few days in the hospital, a month of their life, etc.

"Excuse me, are all these books biographies?" Annabeth asked the old women. At this, the three ladies simultaneously dropped their needles and yarn into their laps and looked at Annabeth. Their eyes seemed to bore into you, as if they could knew everything about you.

"You could say that." said all three of them at once. Their voices were raspy and hard, not voices used to talking much. They picked up their work and continued to knit, appearing as if they never stopped in the first place. Annabeth, now a little queasy, took a closer look at the books. They were so detailed, so specific. As if the person's life was recorded out for them to live exactly-

"You're the Fates!" exclaimed Annabeth, shocked and a little frighten, not that she showed it. The Fates stopped their work once more and looks at Annabeth, their eyes now seemingly more wicked than before.

"Correct, daughter of Athena. Did you expect us to have memorized how we decided the lives of every single human being? No, it was recorded in these books, and the said person would live exactly how it was written for them," they finished together. Annabeth looked in awe at the piles and piles of books. All of these were filled with how and what each person would live, do, and die. All of a sudden, the urge to grab a book without thought and to see what that person's life would be filled with seeped through her.

"Oh, a wise child like you would know that we did not appear here by chance. We were sent to offer you the chance at wisdom no one has ever been given. Just say the words, and we will give to you your story," continued the ladies, their daring looks piercing Annabeth. Again the urge returned. Maybe Annabeth could see what will happen to her. She wanted to accept the gift so badly, but something held her back. She could almost hear her mother's voice in her head, "wisdom is a blessing and a curse." Would it be wise to see it and expect not to stop living life for she can not change her future? Or would it be helpful to see it and have the reassuring feeling of being prepared instead of winging her actions? In war, one always wanted to be prepared. This was a tempting offer, and a hard decision too. She thought hard, really hard, and finally came to a decision.

"No thank you. To live a life knowing that I can't control the things that will happen to me and dreading events that are destine to occur would drive me crazy. I thank you though." And before she changed her mind, she turned around and walked away. Once Annabeth was a good block away, she dared turn around to only see that where the book sale and the Fates were were no longer there. She hailed a taxi and asked the driver to take her to the hill where, unknowing to him, was Camp Half Blood. After paying him, she ran to the camp, passing the safety line, to be greeted by her boyfriend, Percy Jackson. He looked visibly relieved.

"Hey Wise Girl. Where have you been? You were half an hour late, I was starting to get worried about you." he said truthfully. Annabeth smiled and embraced him in a hug.

"Don't worry Seaweed Brain. I just stayed late to finish up on a project." she lied. She didn't want to tell him about a choice that could have changed everything. She knew that she could have chosen to take her story, but the knowledge might have ruin her life. Now, safe in Percy's arms, she knew that no matter what, her story would always have Percy in it.

**Hey guys! Please read and review. I hope I maintained the characters correctly. I accept criticism. I hope you liked the story!**


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